Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Jesus the Farmer

At home a family sits down for dinner and thank Jesus for it.
At some forgotten field, a Mexican man named Jesus removed his hat, cleaned the sweat off from his forehead and silently thanks them for his job in which he makes a dollar for every box of vegetables he picks up from the earliest hour of the morning to the last drop of the beautiful sun that becomes unbearable during the midday, this is his American Dream as an undocumented worker running away from a country that gave him no opportunities and is at war with itself.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Death does not always mean change

The city changes and I feel nostalgia, I am starting to understand why it becomes such a big thing when one grows up and sees everything s...